


when the dead rise

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Amputation, Avengers Family, Blood, Character Death, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, animal hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>steve rogers lost everything when the epidemic broke out. his mother. his father. his best friend. </p><p>now with a group of survivors, steve tries to forgot his past and keep he and his friends alive. that's easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the dead rise

_The loud splintering of wood awoke him from his sleep. He scrambled out of his sleeping bag, grabbing the swiss army knife concealed under his pillow. Upstairs, he could hear inhuman growls from the walkers as they stumbled over the floorboards. Then a scream._

_He could hear his heart beating in his ears as he sprinted up the stairs, opening the door and racing into the kitchen. One of the walkers turned around and stumbled towards him, only to have a knife dug into his forehead. Blood spurted out, temporarily blinding him as he ripped the blade back out._

_Wiping the blood out of his eyes, he finally saw the other walker hovering over someone. "Mom, no!" The yell ripped out of his throat, but it was too late. Teeth were digging into her flesh, tearing out chunks as blood spilled out in pints. He jammed the knife through its neck, tossing the now limp body to the side as retracting the blade carelessly._

_He fell helplessly, his bony knees hitting the floor as he_ _cradled his mothers face. Hot tears were flooding over his hollow cheeks as he sobbed, shoulders shaking violently. She reached back up to cup his face, the life fading slowly out of her eyes._

_"I," She whispered hoarsely. "love y-" She tried to finish, but her eyelids fell shut, head lolling to the side as her hands fell like a limp puppet._

_"No! No! No, please! Mom, please." He screamed through sobs. It was no use. His mother was gone and there was nothing he could do. More tears fell as he hugged her, clutching on for dear life._

_______

Steve awoke with a gasp, shooting bolt upright in his sleeping bag. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, glancing over to make sure he didn't wake Sam. He grabbed his handgun and his flashlight, slipping out of the tent quietly. The fire pit still had a dull glow as Steve sat down in one of the lawn chairs surrounding it. 

Every night he had the same nightmares - either the one about his mother or his friend. His mother had died when he was nineteen years old, when he was small, scrawny, and sick every other week. He came back from college in the summer to visit when the epidemic broke out, and he and his parents were forced to barricade themselves in the basement. His father went out on a supply run, and never returned. Steve later saw him, looking like all the other walkers, stumbling after him in an attempt to take a bite. Steve never had the heart to tell his mother what he had saw.

After his mother died, he buried her in their backyard, packed up his supplies and got ready to leave. While searching the neighborhood, he had found his best friend, Bucky, holed up in the attic of his house next door. He looked just as malnourished and frightened as Steve was, but they teamed up and went on the run together. They raided police stations, pharmacies, supermarkets, any where they could get supplies. 

They spent months together, camping out on the side of the road, barricading themselves in gas stations, and old houses. Eventually, they found a school, nearly completely clear of all walkers. Plenty of space, supplies, and protection. When they went in to clear it out, everything went perfectly. They set up in the gym, the windows boarded up, their supplies stacked neatly in the bleachers. They nearly cried tears of joy when they found that the showers in the locker rooms still had running water. 

It was paradise. 

Until it wasn't.

Bucky went out to patrol before sun down, said he'd be back in for dinner in a few minutes. "Don't do anything stupid 'till I get back." He remembered Bucky saying.

"How can I? You're takin' all the stupid with you." Steve replied, giving Bucky a lopsided grin.

"Punk." Bucky huffed, shaking his head at Steve.

"Jerk." Steve replied without missing a beat.

After fifteen minutes, Bucky was a no-show, and Steve started to get worried. He grabbed  his pump action shotgun, leaving the gymnasium and searching the halls. Outside, he heard gunshots and yell, and before he knew it, he was running out the front doors. He was greeted with a massive hoard, all turning to face him and stumbling towards him. Three of them were holding what looked to be an arm, chewing the flesh clean off the bone. Then he realized it was Bucky's arm. But the rest of Bucky was no where to be found. He took out as many as he could before running back inside, wrapping the chains around the door and locking them together, even though every cell of his body was screaming for him to go back out and search for Bucky.

It took over a week for the rest of the walkers to leave. By then, Steve had convinced himself that Bucky was dead. There was no way he could have survived. Even if he escaped the hoard, the amount of blood loss would have sent him into shock and killed him. Bucky was gone. And he was alone again.

He spent the next few months hiding in the school, barely eating, sleeping, or even moving. Eventually, a group of survivors found him and took him in. They brought him and his supplies back to their camp, and took care of him as if he were family. When he first arrived he was so skinny he could count each and every rib, but by now he was bigger than most of the group. 

And now, nearly a year later, he and the group were still camped out together. "Hello Steve." Came a voice from behind. Steve leaped out of his seat, swiveling around only to see Wanda, holding her hands up cautiously. 

"Hey, sorry Wanda." Steve apologized, sitting back down as she took a seat next to him. 

"It's fine. Are you alright? I heard you talking in your sleep, you sounded distressed." She whispered after hearing someone ( probably Tony ) grunt in their sleep. 

"Just another nightmare." He replied, Wanda nodding sympathetically in reply. They sat together in companionable silence until the sun started to rise over the hills and people starting filtering out of their tents. Pietro appeared first greeting his sister with a warm hug. He was quickly followed by Sam, Natasha, Clint, and Tony. Natasha handed him a granola bar as she sat down next to him, giving him a small smile. He thanked her quietly, watching the rest of the group fumble with their breakfast as he chewed on his food. 

The rest of the day went smoothly. Jobs were assigned over breakfast before they separated. Pietro and Clint made a run into the city for more supplies, Tony worked on the trucks busted engine, Sam and Natasha went scouting, while Steve and Wanda went to hunt for dinner. 

Wanda had an exceptional eye, and spotted a deer just twenty yards out. Steve shot it right through the eye, before marching over to haul it back to camp. They were grinning like idiots when they returned - the deer would be enough for at least three meals, maybe even four. When Sam and Natasha had returned, they said the spotted a small pond about a mile away where they could catch fish and wash their clothes. Pietro and Clint returned just after Steve and Sam left to gut the deer, saying the hoard in the city had begun moving towards the hills and they might want to think about relocating. They also brought cases of bottled water, canned fruits and nuts, and some more ammunition for the handguns. 

They stored the extra meat in the old cooler, hoping that it might preserve it a little longer even though it no longer had ice. The rest of the meat was cooked and passed around for dinner, the sun slowly setting over the city. They all finished quickly, starved after a hard days work. The group hung out together for a little while longer before turning it for the night. Steve followed Sam to their tent, climbing into his sleeping bag and mumbling a quick 'good night' to Sam.

He was dozing in and out of sleep, memories of his mom and dad floating around in his head. Visions of his dad showing up as a walker, trying to kill him. His mothers blank, soulless eyes staring back at him before he stabbed her - he couldn't bear to see her turn. He had nightmares of Bucky returning as a walker; pale green skin, eyes blood shot, flesh hanging off his bones as he tears into Steve. In his dream, he can't fight back. He just lies there and lets Bucky kill him. He startles awake, trying to forget what he had saw. Forget the pain. 

All thoughts about the dream halted when he heard the blood curdling scream.


End file.
